


Score One For the Good Guys

by JohnxHelen



Category: The Man in the High Castle (TV)
Genre: And for turning Frank into "Frank the Wanker" as Dekritis put it, F/M, For being a manipulative asshole, Gary really deserved this series, This one's for you girl, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2018-12-31 23:44:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12143691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JohnxHelen/pseuds/JohnxHelen
Summary: Mark Sampson finally does what we all have been waiting for: dressing down Gary Connell





	Score One For the Good Guys

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dekritis](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Dekritis).



Mark Sampson was walking home, dressed in black after viewing the body of someone who might have been a friend: Frank Frink.

 

He hasn't brought his children; they'd always been traumatized of dead bodies and he didn't want their days to be ruined. He felt the same way he was after seeing his wife dead. Only this time, there was a body and tangible proof, not ashes that may not have been hers and probably were random scoops of other people. Frank seemed like a nice person. One of his kind, as far as he was concerned. Why else would he have come to his door if he wasn't Jewish? he thought Someone who was willing to do anything for his beliefs was what he got from the man.

Hell, he could have helped him understand his vaunted religion that he was brought into or aided him with the rage that surrounded him with grief- the rage that Gary had manipulated like a violin to use for his own ends.

Frank's sister was also one that he cried over. A kind soul like her brother.   _May they rest in peace_ , he thought _._

 

There was a slight rage in him, warming his bones like they did for 218 days at the Boston Revolt. He realized that he also was mourning for what could have been. If Frank was alive, if his sister hadn't..if his wife didn't walk into that checkpoint. At some point he would have to let it go, but he couldn't now. Not with revenge in his heart. Not with the evidence of Frank's action in front of him. And the new order of curfew at 6:30 also allowed random shootings at all hours - it was unsafe to be out and around when you saw the Green Helmets patrolling, even if you were a legitimate citizen. And they were near the place he was planning to go to- Gary Connells headquarters.

 

Nevertheless, with a bow to the officers and a "Hai!", he was allowed to pass while the man next to him was hauled away.

The door was already slightly ajar- for a minute he thought the Helmets had killed him and felt a rush of revenge, but then he smelled shitty cigarette smoke.

 

Gary hadn't lost his elegant taste for tobacco. Gary Connell was briefing a elder man that he recognized as one of the priests who was glad about the banning of religion. 

 

They'd had a falling out many years ago because Mark believed that banning religion was something that affected him; especially as a Jew. He also remembered the priest hated Jew's, jokingly calling them, "The people with no penises." when he was with the Resistance, not knowing of the Jewish man. He'd quickly apologized, but Mark knew to be as far away from the man as humanly possible. Gary saw movement and went to grab for the pistol he constantly kept in his holster, loaded with a extra bullet for himself. The plan to destroy the damn Japs didn't work as he had planned. For one, he lost Sarah. Frank was just a means to a end, but her.. he wished that she hadn't fucked that wanker. Maybe she'd want him..but..you win some, you lose some especially with women was one of his big life lessons in New Berlin Prison. The movement came closer.

 

_One..two..three_ , he was thinking. He'd have to shoot, but then a familiar face emerged from the doorway.

 

"Sampson." Gary said gruffly. He thought that he'd never see the elder man after the Bank operation. He was on the sidelines and trying to care for some of the wounded, Gary included, but the two had had a falling out over the way that the Resistance would go; the former won because all the crazy Nazi-killers survived the operation.

 

"What brings you here, brother?" Gary asked in a vaguely friendly tone, if one squinted. "I'm not your brother." Mark replied with a slight hint of animostiy. _He liked to portray himself as a holier-than-thou Christian, when in reality he wasn't. He was the farthest from Christian values of forgiveness and loving ones enemy than anything, in no thanks to that crazy priest,_ Mark thought.

 

For a brief moment, all hope of a friendly reunion shattered in Gary's face, and he could see that. "I want to talk about Frank Frink." he said, suprisngly calm even though his organs were still spinning with grief. 

He was shocked for a minute. "He's of no consequence and I'm sorry, really I am. He was a friend of mine.."

 

Gary trailed on in this vein for five minutes, not seeing Mark approach with a brass knuckle in his hand. He used it in case he got into a fight and could defend himself. He was good with his fists, especially in the Boston Revolt of 1950, where, to his count, he punched and killed around 50 Nazis. 

"You son of a bitch." he growled.

"Hey, hey brother." he said, as though Gary was calming a savage beast. "He was a good man."he said from out of his box of bullshit. "He was." Mark agreed. "Until you twisted him and then took him on your plan to kill the Japanese. Look at how that went." He pointed at one of the windows, where the Helmets were taking civilians hostage, and one had just shot the man adjacent to him in the street. 

"These things happen." Gary said dully. "We can't let them break us."

"Funny you say that, the one who cowered like a mongrel the minute you saw Smith at the bank. Remember he shot you in the thigh? Remember you were crying for Mama and he _laughed."_

"And also my daughter had to watch her friend die in one of the hostage roundups. You should have heard her scream. Now, if it was Frank you would have told him to shut up."

"Sacrifices have to be made." the former whispered dangerously.

Marks eyes flared dangerously. 

"Now you sound like a damn Nazi. You walk like one, expect everyone to bow down to you like you are some fucking god. But you and me both know that you are NOTHING but a damn coward." He punched Gary in the face, watching his fall and nose bleed with a perverted sort of satisfaction. 

Glaring at Hagen, he walked out thinking _Score one for the good guys_.


End file.
